Fareeha, Pharah, held a Ra Seeker in her hand. The factories that mass produced these deadl rockets had long since been lost to the omnic war machine. She didn’t know the current state of the supplies held by the Egyptian Security Forces (ESF). That wasn’t her role however. She was a soldier. Captain of the 5th Company ESF Sky Jumper Corps. Or what was left of it.

“Captain.” Looking down from her makeshift lookout. It was Lieutenant Alawa. “Still no word from C-COM. No word from the forward scouts either. We’re cut off.”

Pharah frowned. Gripping the rocket tighter. “Our orders are to hold this sector until the civilians make it out. We're being pushed back. There’s nothing we can do about it. What we can do is ensure our people make it out,” she said. She pointed out towards the devastated city of Cairo. Plumes of smoke clogged the darkened sky. The sun hadn’t graced Egypt since the omnics came. “You saw what the tin cans did at Tanta.”

Alawa nodded.

“Then we hold the line.”

Getting up from chair, Pharah looked once again at the wall that kept the sun away from the children as they learned. From the fallen drawn pictures and art supplies that littered the floor, she supposed this was an art room. Maybe elementary. Some had potential. Pharah wondered where the children were now. Were they part of the body count that littered Cairo’s streets? Or had they made it to the exodus caravans?

Leaving the room, Pharah made her way towards the makeshift infirmary her medics and company doctor had thrown together. The doctor was a civilian, drafted in by necessity. Dr. Marsal. A orthopedic doctor turned trauma surgeon. His tongue was as sharp as any scalpel. His ability to save the most extreme of cases, however, kept Pharah from reminding him that she was his superior. The infirmary was laden with at least two dozen rows of stretchers. MEDVAC had been called, but Pharah doubted it’d come. A decision had to be made.

Spotting the doctor taking off dirtied gloves, Pharah came to stand by his side. She looked at a private. She noted the sign made by the medical personnel. He would be remembered in the peace to come. “Doctor.”

“Captain.”

Gesturing away from the wounded, Marsal followed her until they were given some privacy. “Condition of the wounded.”

“Straight to the point as always,” said Marsal. “Some of them can move. Non severe to mild wounds. Four can’t move. Too many wounds from the most recent omnic core. Five can wound dozens. By god, Captain. Staying is suicide! No supplies, and I am expected to pull a miracle! What am I to do—“

Pharah held up a hand. “You are to perform your duty. Nothing more. Nothing less. You are an officer, and I expect you to act like one,” she said. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Take care of your outbursts, doctor. C-COM hasn’t replied to the nature of our orders. As such, we’ll maintain our position. In the off chance our orders change—“

“You want to triage. To decide who to leave behind.”

“A decision I don’t take lightly. If I could, I'd get everyone out.”

The two lingered in silence. The two staring at one another.

Marsal broke away from her gaze first as he started to bite his thumb nail. Knowing when to give up on a lost cause was something his profession beat into him well. During his training years as a resident, he saved more lives in the emergency room than he lost. The ones he did lose, however, he remembered them well. The dead haunted him. As he was sure it haunted the soldiers and the captain. There was something transient about saving lives, yet permanent when a life was lost by his hands. He didn’t like the question, but the logic, militaristically, made sense. Save what she could. That was how the captain thought. A burden they both shared.

“I’ll have the medics find objects that can be made into crutches or whatever else we’ll need for mobility. I’ve taken the liberty to mark those that are too forgone to fix with current supplies. Two coded in the last hour. A detail I chose to neglect to tell you. Medical officer discretion,” he said slowly. “The mark is a three dot triangle. The medics know. Certain signs are associated with good and bad. I wanted to make it as ambiguous as possible.

“Egypt never prepared for this war. We’re paying for it now. Still care for the 5th. Hated the conscription ever since the omnics started their northern push. Could’ve gotten out when I had the chance. But here we are. The 5th my home until I see my family again past the Nile. Until we meet our loved ones across the Nile shores.”

Sentimentality was something Pharah seldom heard from Marsal. A moment she would not waste. She placed a gauntleted hand on his shoulder. “We may never be on friendly terms, but we share a common thing. Our love for the 5th and Egypt. Until we meet our loved ones across the Nile shores. Ensure we’re ready to move, doctor.”

“Captain!” Dorian, their lucky private who should’ve died many times over, ran towards the two officers. “East lookout spotted activity. We’re setting up now.”

Pharah was already on her way. She checked her armor’s power unit and her ammunition. She was low. Power wasn't looking good either. The 5th had been fighting on for too long without resupply. “How many?”

“Unknown. We can’t get visual confirmation on omnic or humans. Shadows, ma’am.”

The eastern perimeter was comprised of the bulk of the company. Facing towards the direction where omnics held ground, it made the most sense. The rest of the perimeter was covered by squads and whatever else could be spared. It concerned her that activity was spotted now. Blind to the immediate area, the scouts never reporting back, she was going into this fight blind. An unfortunate situation of war.

Reaching the eastern perimeter, Pharah took cover behind a crumbling wall, her visor’s interface pointing out points of interest on her HUD. “Platoon leaders, check in.”

“1st platoon. Good to go.”

“3rd platoon. What’s the word?”

“2nd platoon. Ready to go, Cap.”

“1st and 3rd, activity spotted. Pass orders to confirm omnic or humans before firing. Confirm orders.”

“1st platoon copies all.”

“3rd platoon reads loud and clear.”

Pharah opened a map of the area on her HUD. “2nd platoon. Keep an eye out. Shift and react. Officer's discretion. Confirm.”

“Got it, Cap. You worry about the front, we’ll worry about the back.”

Right when she was about to move towards the other side of the wall, bullets slammed into her cover as she ducked down. Priming her rocket, she peeked around her corner. Omnics. “Weapons free!” she shouted into her comms unit as 5th company began their orchestra of death. Taking aim with the help of her HUD, she fired a rocket as the smell of Ozone filled her senses. She smirked as metal shrapneled in all directions.

“Dorian!”

The private weaseled his way past the incoming bullets to her side. “Must be three — four cores! Twenty units?”

Pharah ignored his comment. “Get me five jumpers, those with fuel to spare. Go!”

Dorian was dashed off as bullets pelted around him seconds too late. Pharah shook her head before continuing her rain of fire.

Hearing a number of footsteps behind her, Pharah saw the jumpers Dorian managed to scrap together. Seasoned jumpers. Three privates. A corporal. A sergeant. “You five with me. Dorian, hold this point. Let’s go.”

Leading her small squad to the second level floor, Pharah kicked open a door marked with a large red circle. Looking at the huge hole above, it was a clear shot for a jump. Cognizant of the sound of war around her, she looked at the five grouped around with her. “I’m not going to lie. We may be outmanned, and we have near zero intel. For all that we know, our flanking companies may’ve already fallen back. Us being left behind.” Pharah primed her jet pack. The others did the same. “But our orders are to hold until the exodus caravans are away. We save hundreds with our blood. Are you with me?”

All present nodded.

“Until we meet across the Nile shores.” With that, Pharah turned towards the opening and thumbed the ignition. The synchronized sound of jet packs filled the room. Tapping into her jumper breathing technique, her feet left the ground as she tasted the freedom felt by so little.

Reaching maximum altitude, Pharah hovered as she fired rocket after rocket from above.

To say that things had gotten bad was an understatement.

Even in relatively peaceful nations like Switzerland, that would never get themselves involved in a war, the Omnic Crisis was unavoidable. After all, omnics were everywhere. And every time Angela looked around, it seemed another person was suffering from the effects of combat. No one on this planet would come away from this unscathed. No one could avoid tragedy at this scale.

With the UN losing its grip on everything it once held, power waning and people dying in massive numbers, Overwatch had to go on its own. Funding was lackluster, only a handful of people still believing that the organization could even continue to fight. Slowly but surely, the members drifted apart to serve their homelands.

Reinhardt had gone back to Germany, and Angela hadn't heard from him since. Jack had disappeared, likely off on some personal mission. He always took things so hard to heart. Sometimes he wouldn't listen to reason. But Angela never tried to stop him, even when he decided to go it alone. Others had done similar. Instead of trying to fight the crisis together, now Overwatch was a shell of its former self, the name barely held up by but a few strings that were fraying in the middle.

Angela was a doctor. She wasn't a fighter like the others; she was in Overwatch to help people, and even with no clear direction, she wouldn't give up hope that the Omnic Crisis could be defeated. It had been their task to deal with, and she only had a few tools at her disposal. Her Caduceus Staff, and the blaster she kept strapped to her hip were her weapons. Her Valkyrie suit aided her in her healing ways, but even with a blaster in had, she wasn't meant to fight omnics like this. She was never meant to be in combat.

Angela wanted to go where the fighting was the worst, to make her efforts meaningful, to try to give hope to those who were lost in fear of death. There were other doctors here in Switzerland, and the fighting in Zurich paled in comparison to other nations. These people would last much longer. Switzerland was always on the defense, they'd always been that way. This meant she could leave and feel confident that she would still have a home to go back to.

She made no attempt to contact the other members of Overwatch. She needn't take time away from them. Most, if not all, were stuck in rigorous combat. Interruptions could easily prove fatal.

Overwatch still had some authority, since it had been recognized as a very strong organization during the beginning of the crisis, and indeed they had originally fought very hard and even had some success. Their efforts appeared to be in vain at this point. With what authority Angela still did have, she requested a military transport to Cairo if it could be done. Egypt may as well have been encapsulated in flames the fighting was so unrelenting. Cairo was a huge target of the Omnics. Large population, low defenses. The ESF could only handle so much. They hadn't been prepared for the omnics to go rampant like this.

It wasn't long after her request of transport that the military allowed her to take a small squad on a helicopter to go to Cairo to assist. It was her, two Privates, and a Lieutenant who was a pilot. She knew none of them, but they definitely knew who she was, and respected her skills as a doctor.

The Lieutenant approached Angela in the hangar on the airstrip they'd soon depart from. His nametag read Florian. Lieutenant Florian. "We're ready to go when you are, Doctor Ziegler."

Angela nodded her head and stood from her place in a rather uncomfortable metal chair. She grabbed her pack, which contained a simple few military rations of food and a few tools in case her equipment were damaged. She knew the risks of going to Cairo. Hell, they could easily be shot out of the sky before they even reached the capitol.

She followed Florian outside of the hangar to the helicopter on the runway, ducking her head as she got in to avoid the spinning rotors above. She placed herself in one of the seats, taking a deep breath and strapping herself in for a long and dangerous ride. Even before they got to Cairo, they'd have to fly over other nations who were also caught in the Omnic Crisis.

One of the Privates, named Amstutz, looked across the aisle of the helicopter and smiled at the blonde woman. "Don't worry, doc. The Lieutenant is one of the best pilots we have right now. He'll get us to Cairo safely."

Her expression must've given away her concern and worry. She met the eyes of Amstutz and returned his smile with a slight one of her own.

"Thank you, Amstutz, but I am not scared for the flight so much as I am the situation in Cairo. You know how bad it is, correct?" She asked.

Amstutz nodded. "Of course. It's one of the epicenters of the fighting. We're lucky here in Zurich, to not have such a direct omnic presence."

Angela breathed a stressful sigh as they lifted off and begin their flight to Cairo. She wouldn't tell the soldiers, but there wasn't just any normal reason for her going to Cairo. While she certainly wanted to help where the fighting was worst, she had to find out if she was still there. The young and determined Fareeha. She was worried for the girl that she'd watched grow up in turmoil. After Ana disappeared, Fareeha only had Overwatch to guide her, and with their success faulting under the pressure of constant combat... It seemed like as soon as she could, Fareeha enlisted in the military for Egypt, as opposed to joining Overwatch. Perhaps it was a smart move, but an equally dangerous one. The military was no safer than Overwatch. Maybe more dangerous, in fact.

The flight went smoothly until they reached Egypt. Outside the window, Angela could see the pillars of smoke rising from destruction. She could see the omnics below, razing what were once happy towns. It broke her heart, truly, to see a proud nation so... charred and wrecked. The closer they got to Cairo, the worse things seemed to get. There was seemingly no safe place to land.

"Lieutenant, if you have to land in danger, then do it! This place is an active combat zone, so there is no guarantee that anywhere is safe!" Angela urged. At this point, she just wanted to get her boots on the ground and do what she could to help the Egyptians below.

The Lieutenant managed to secure a landing on a flat rooftop towards the center of the vast city. It had a slight bit of protection from the omnics only a mile or two away from this position.

"We should try to establish communication with the ESF." The other Private, one named Messerli, suggested. "If we can group with them, we could do more good than if we act on our own."

Florian piped in, already manning the radio on the dashboard of the heli. "Most channels seem to be blocked or just gone completely. I'm trying as much as I can. Just sit tight and let me know if any omnics get too close."

"This is Swiss Flight Lieutenant Albert Florian, if there are any ESF who can hear me, respond. We have Doctor Angela Ziegler of Overwatch here to assist. Repeat, this is Swiss Flight Lieutenant Albert Florian, if there are any ESF who can hear me, respond. We have Doctor Angela Ziegler of Overwatch here to assist."

Florian repeated the message on every channel he could tune into. Angela listened in hopes that someone, anyone would respond. Her heart raced as she sat in this seat; she could hear gunfire in the distance and explosions that rattled the city. She'd been in deep combat before, healing soldiers from seemingly fatal wounds, but she'd never felt this kind of fear. Here, where the Omnic Crisis had struck like a hammer to a nail, she found herself wishing and hoping silently to herself.

'Please... don't let this be the end of this place.'

Firefights felt like hours though Fareeha knew it'd been only minutes.

Dorian almost called it spot on. From her view, there were at least four cores. Give or take, twenty omnics. With Bastion classes (BCs) making up the bulk of the assault, raiders (sneaks) slinked to the side. They're cloaking fields shimmering ever so slightly. Bastion classes certainly packed the heat, but the sneaks were the danger. Outfitted for ambushes, ESF lost most of its forces to these clever killing machines. ESF eggheads were still trying to come up with a countermeasure. Until then, the shimmering cloak fields against the sand was all they had. Sand still hit them, which helped with spotting.

Eyeing a detachment of sneaks heading around to the southern perimeter, Fareeha hovered away from BC fire and shot off a rocket. "Sneaks heading to the south! 2nd move to intercept! Watch your sides 3rd!"

Hearing a scream from her jumper communication channel, Fareeha saw one of her jumpers plummet to his death. His body turned to pulp from a Bastion class. Yet another soul lost from the fabricated children of humanity. A round pelted against her armor as a sharp gasp escaped her. Lowering herself back to the compound, she signaled her jumpers to peel off as well. The tin cans had them zeroed. Efficient at air and ground kills. The omnics made her sick.

As she touched ground, she saw a medic rush over to her. She looked at her shoulder. The round sunk deep though she hardly noticed it until she saw it. "It's nothing. Get back to the line," she said though the medic ignored her. The sergeant and the rest of her jump squad looked at her. At the wound. She snapped towards them. "Move to the southern perimeter!" Before she had the chance to wave off the medic, a distorted voice crackled on the ESF open channel. Handing her rocket to a nearby private, she switched to it and tried to dial it in. She grunted. "Comms!"

The corporal with the communications box on his back made his way over. "Ma'am?"

"Switch to ESF-Gen. There's a signal."

Doing as instructed, Fareeha moved her trio into sturdier cover as the omnic assault continued. "Well?"

Adjusting the tuning orbs on the pack, the corporal looked up. "Something about ... Overwatch ... Doctor ... Ziegler. Swiss signal, Cap."

Overwatch? Why would they be out here? Why would Angela be out here? Fareeha motioned for the communication's line and waited till the corporal gave her a thumbs up. She looked up as she saw an airship move in the distance. The fools were way past the safe zones to the south. "Flight Lieutenant, this is Captain Amari. You are way past the safe zone. BCs are active. Move off to the following coordinates," Fareeha read off the coordinates of the last known safe zone, "when you get there, report to the--"

A concussive blast knocked Fareeha off her feet. She narrowly avoided debris as the ceiling collapsed. The corporal wasn't as lucky. "Khara! Report!"

"Heavies moving in from the East!" said Lieutenant Alawa as he helped Fareeha to her feet. "We can't hold our position. I strongly urge a Tac-draw."

The position was lost. Fareeha knew it. It was only a matter of time before the omnics massed a force capable enough to smash the diminishing strength of the final defensive lines. Did she, her company, buy the caravans enough time?

Getting back to her feet, blood still seeping from her shoulder, she toggled her local communicator to the platoon officers. "Officers initiate contingency 2. 1st and 3rd, hold the perimeter. 2nd, secure our south. Wounded moved first with escorts from 2nd. We'll rendezvous at rally point Gamma."

A trust forged from countless of battles before, Fareeha trusted her officers as they trusted her. She rushed back to the front. She would not leave her jumpers now.

Angela waited anxiously for a response from anyone, listening closely. She gasped and turned her head to the cockpit when she heard a very familiar voice. Fareeha was stubborn as always, not accepting help from outside. Sure, she was an incredible rocket trooper with responsibility for the safety of those around her, but even Angela knew when to accept assistance. The Swiss woman stood up and went to the radio. "Stay on that frequency, Lieutenant. That's Pharah on the other end. If she can hear me she'll listen."

Angela took the mic. "Fareeha, this is Doctor Ziegler. Listen to me, I am here to help save lives, not sit back and wait for the wounded to come to me. Tell me your location, and I will come to you with my squad. If nothing else, we can help hold your defenses, and save the injured. I will not retreat. I came all this way from the safe haven of my home to help here in Cairo."

Florian seemed visibly surprised by the stern tone that the doctor spoke with. If Fareeha was going to be stubborn, then two could play at that game. Angela wasn't going to go hide and wait for the omnics. She was here to do her duty and save lives where it mattered most. There was no doubt that the ESF was desperate and weakening. Any help they could get should have easily been accepted, but Fareeha was proud, and would never admit to weakness. She was like her mother, in that sense. Ana was the type to never admit her own pain, or back down from even the heaviest odds stacked against her.

Angela could remember Fareeha as a child, so protected and so cared for. It was a precious time, something not to be taken for granted. Overwatch had just been a budding flower at the time, Angela still quite young in her twenties. All these years she'd dedicated her life to the the healing of others, the tending of their wounds before hers. Some would call her magic, but she had simply developed very effective nanotechnology for the purpose of mending wounds. She had been around the young Fareeha quite often, and watched her grow and grow... and grow. She certainly had been exceedingly tall, and even now she towered over most women, and even some men. Reinhardt sometimes joked that Fareeha would eventually be as tall as him, but that was a stretch. Angela had watched Fareeha grow into a strong and highly independent individual, and when the Egyptian girl left to return to her home... Ziegler could barely admit to herself how much she missed the presence of the other.

Angela shook her head to clear her mind from her drifting thoughts. She would save reminiscing in memories for later, when the situation wasn't so dire.

Gunfire lessened from their side. Fareeha kept monitoring the constant communication chatter. The wounded weren't being evacuated quickly enough. Their line wouldn't hold much longer. The omnic leadership, however they were led, were hellbent on taking this point. Only in the beginning days of the Cairo campaign did Fareeha see this amount of effort bombarding their lines. There were many more companies back then compared to now. It was her alone with her men this time. Fareeha wasn't looking forward to seeing the casualty list.

"Captain, have you been listening?!"

Fareeha near ripped her comm unit off her ear. Everyone knew how sensitive these things were. Even Marsala who never really cared about protocol anyway. "Goddammit doctor. Have you cleared the area?"

"More important. I just sent our coordinates to the Swiss unit. Now before you temper, Dr. Ziegler is on that ship. You've heard about her--"

"Shut up and get our wounded out of here!" Rushing back towards the area where the corporal died, she looked for the comm unit. Banged up and immobile, the receiver was still in one piece. Fareeha reached for it. She hoped it still work. "Angela? If you can hear me, Dr. Marsala sent you our coordinates. I have no jurisdiction over you. I am begging you not to come. Our position is near overrun. I can't get you out safely ... that's all."

So she was still insisting they didn't come. Angela was quick to defy Fareeha's wishes for them to stay passive. Eventually the fighting would get to them regardless where they went to hide, no question about it. When they recieved the coordinates of the location, the Lieutenant pulled up a map of the area on the dashboard console. He pinpointed the area and sighed.

"They're in a bad spot... Doctor, are you sure you want to do this?" Florian looked to the woman beside him. Angela nodded her head in affirmation.

"Don't make me start second guessing myself, Lieutenant. Get this helicopter off the ground. I'll use my suit to descend to the ground safely. You find a better place to land the helicopter and join up with us. If it's too dangerous, I give you permission to abandon the mission and leave me here. I will be fine." Angela instructed, returning to her seat.

Florian seemed unsure, but followed orders without hesitation. He started up the engines again and lifted off, flying the short distance to where Fareeha's coordinates were. Florian hovered over the area. "Go quickly!" He urged.

Angela opened the side door of the helicopter, taking a deep breath and jumping from the edge with her gear. Her suit did incredible things, and gliding through the sky was one of the main ones. The Swiss woman peered at the area, then spotted a familiar female rocketeer on the ground. Directing her suit to carry her to the woman, she drifted down to the ground, landing perfectly. She'd done this a thousand times. She was just thankful that the omnics were busy with other targets on the ground rather than shoot her out of the sky.

"Fareeha..." The name left Angela's pink lips in a tone of bittersweetness. She was thankful to see her, but this was in the midst of combat. It was no storybook reunion.

"I know you told me to stay but this is my duty. Just as it is your duty to protect these people at all costs..." Her eyes drifted to the wound on the younger woman's shoulder. "You're hurt. Come here, let me have a look. Soldiers are no good held back by wounds." Angela stepped closer to inspect the bloody mess that had become of the injury. "You haven't let a medic take a look at you. This is a bad wound."

Fareeha had to drop the communicator as a whistling filled the sky. Diving to the nearest covering, Fareeha hissed as she landed hard on her wounded shoulder. Looking at where she stood moments before, a crater imploded deep into the Earth. Being hit by a Heavy's ordinance wasn't something Fareeha ever wanted to feel. Atomized under whatever the Omnics packed into their shells. She never saw a body after inspecting a direct hit.

Getting to her feet, the adrenaline could only dull the pain for so long. To her dismay, the rocket launcher felt too heavy for one of her arms to carry let alone absorb the kick back from the Ra Seeker. Maybe it was good that Angela was coming here. Maybe it wasn't. When she made the decision to not join Overwatch, a current shadow of its former self, Fareeha accepted that fact that she'd die fighting against the Omnics. She regretted all but one thing. Not knowing what happened to her mother. No body. Nothing.

Slinging the Ra Seeker over her shoulder, Fareeha pulled out a service pistol that she'd never thought she'd use. Chambering a round, she walked back to the front line. The calm overtook her as she sighted the first Omnic and watched bullets knick away at its metal hull.

"Captain! Bird inbound. Swiss markings," said a jumper over the communications unit.

Seeing Angela descend from the sky, Fareeha toggled her comm unit. "Covering fire and hold! Our wounded are almost away. The way back is clear!" Walking towards an inner wall, Fareeha watched as Angela landed gracefully. If it were any other time, Fareeha would've been glad to see Angela. Growing up with the others of Overwatch, she saw Angela a lot on base. With the weariness of constant fighting without relieve, however, she had no energy to give such pleasantries. "We're stretched. My medics are dropping quick. Since you're here, I need your help. I have wounded. A lot. I was hoping you could do something?"

She gestured to a nearby building. "Come on," she said as she ignored any further looking into her own wound. Leading the way to the building, she nodded to Dr. Marsala. The evacuation was moving nicely. "Marsala, Dr. Ziegler. Coordinate with her."

Marsala looked at the renown doctor before looking at Fareeha's shoulder. "No one's look at that? It'll get infected. Maybe amputation," he said. "Wouldn't you agree Dr. Ziegler? You want to be dead weight, Captain?"

Fareeha narrowed her eyes. "Careful doctor."

"An expert opinion. No offense intended," he said. "Dr. Ziegler, could you please? I need to get back to the evacuation. Many of the 5th won't be making the rendezvous." Giving Fareeha another look, he moved on. Barking orders at the medics and whatever hands he'd conscripted to help.

As expected, Fareeha disregarded the treatment of her arm. Stubborn and proud. Angela followed the Egyptian woman inside the building, gasping quietly at the injured who lay in rows upon the floor. She'd expected something horrible, but this? This was a lot. She watched briefly in silence as the other medics rushed about, tending to wounds and moving those who couldn't move themselves to safer locations. She then turned her blue eyes to gaze upon Fareeha.

"Let me treat your wound, Fareeha. Then I will help whomever I can. My nanotechnology has its limits, but it can heal most wounds quickly." She stepped close to the other woman. "Take of the armor on your shoulder. It will only be for a few moments. Then you can continue your duty and I can continue mine."

Finally, it seemed, Fareeha would listen. Angela helped her peel off the section of armor around her wound, revealing what was a ragged and painful-looking entry wound. It seemed the bullet was lodged in her shoulder, with no exit wound in sight. No matter, the bullet shrapnel would be pushed out by the nanotech.

Angela focused the energy of her suit at her hands, each of her fingers becoming like its own biotic field. Nanoparticles surged into the wound as Angela pressed her gloves to the taller woman's shoulder, doing as they were intended and filling the gaps left by the bullet's course. Anything not meant to be inside the body was slowly pushed out, rejected by the healing technology. Once the wound was gone, Angela lifted her hands. She brushed her fingers across the skin to rid it of the remains of shrapnel that had been extracted.

"There. Good as new." The Swiss woman said with a small smile. "You can put your armor back on, I will tend to the others." She now turned and began hovering over the bodies of those who had the worst wounds. It was time consuming, and her suit only allowed her to heal so quickly. Near-fatal wounds took much time for the nanotechnology to sort out. There was only so much she could do for some people. She would heal the deepest and most frightening wound to the point where the other medics could work with it, then move on. It was an exhausting task, requiring much focus and stamina.

The Valkyrie suit was a marvel of modern medicine, able to create healing streams from her hands with focused nanobiotics. When paired with her Caduceus Staff, she could project those nanobiotics to a person standing many feet away, through a steady stream that was visible to the naked eye. That was what made her one of the best doctors in the world; the ability to touch someone to heal them, the ability to save people from what otherwise would kill them, without need for excessive tools.

The effort it took to maintain the focus to project the nanotechnology properly was immense, but she was the only one on the world who could use this suit. No matter the strain it put her under, this was her duty.

Though she was compelled to go back out to the battle, what could she do? The wound prevented her from using her rockets and a dizzy spell was starting to move in. Having no more words, nor reason to reject treatment, Fareeha gingerly peeled off the armor on her shoulder. She got a look at the wound for a first time. The puncture was deeper than she'd initially thought. No exit to the back, which meant the shrapnel/bullet was still in there. It had to be removed.

Placing the shoulder piece next to her helmet, she looked intently at Angela before the good doctor began her work. The glow from whatever Angela's miracle healing did always mesmerized her. "I was hoping for a company instead of you. Not that I'm ungrateful. Any help is nice ... well short on that these days," she said as she closed her eyes. She felt acute pain from whatever Angela was doing. "Last I heard, Russia was getting pushed back. Germany too. I'm ... glad mother isn't here to see this."

When she felt the warmth from the glow subside, Fareeha looked again at Angela. She offered a small smile of her own. "It's good to see you again. I wish we had more time to talk," she said as she began to put on her blemished armor. The acute pain turned to a dull ache. Unfortunate that Angela's treatment couldn't replace blood. Or so she thought. She was still dizzy. "Save as many as you can. I've tried to keep them safe. This is one area where I can't."

Watching Angela move towards her wounded men and women, Fareeha walked back outside. She donned her HUD as reports came flooding back in. The Ra Seeker was in her hands as she joined up with 1st platoon. "Keep holding! Deviate fire to the Heavies; they're the most threatening," she said. "2nd, status?"

"2nd here, Cap. Road to paradise ready when you are. Wounded are moving nicely. Doc's finishing up the last few cases. Last I saw."

Fareeha could attest to that. With Angela's help, things would be faster. Undoubtedly.

A long time had past since Angela came, and ammunition was running low. Fareeha had already ordered a withdraw for the 1st and 3rd to the last safety line before the infirmary was at the front. She hit her communicator. "Doctors. What's the SITREP?"

"We're moving the last case now," came Dr. Marsala's reply. "I suggest you move out with haste, Captain."

Fareeha would ask how many Angela and Marsala could save later. "2nd, 1st and 3rd are pulling back. Cover us," she said. "1st and 3rd, pull back in discipline rows. We're leaving!"



They were several hours into the hike back to the safe zone. Fareeha called for her people to occupy caves she found. Omnics wasn't the only danger in Egypt. The sun was too even if it was covered. Did little to shield the heat. Fareeha supposed it was a blessing. Too much of a weather change could cause sickness in Egypt.

Sitting on a rock looking out at the entrance, the wounded had settled in while a perimeter had been established. Omnic forces hadn't been sighted in some time. Didn't mean they were safe. The tin cans had no concept nor pressure from time. They had the advantage. Her company was thinned out as well. Elements had to be moved about to balance each platoon. Take another hit like that again, she'd have dissolve 3rd and combine them with 1st.

For now, some rest was needed. It'd be time to move soon.

Angela worked tirelessly to heal the wounds of those she could, and it wasn't until she knew that the other medics could take care of them that she took a moment to breathe. They had retreated to a cave system, a simple shelter that provided protection from the sun. The omnics seemed so far away now, but the Swiss woman knew better than to let her guard down. They could appear at any moment.

She took the moment of quiet to approach Fareeha. She could tell that the Captain was tired. Exhausted. Weary. But her sense of responsibility kept her awake. She was an incredible leader in the ESF, one Angela had much respect for. Some military goons lost their sense of purpose, but Fareeha never did. Angela admired her determination.

"Fareeha," she said as she walked over, Valkyrie suit scuffed and stained with the blood of the wounded.

"You should get some rest while you can. There's no telling how long we'll be safe here... and I apologize for not being able to bring reinforcements from Switzerland. The fighting there is much more tame than it is here. Zurich is mostly safe. But the Swiss would never weaken their defenses to aid others. They're selfish in that sense though I suppose in these circumstances, no one can be too careful."

Angela clasped her hands infront of her, polite and calm. "Those who are wounded are being watched, but they should be able to heal if given time to rest. Your medics are great people. I commend their hard work. How is your shoulder?"

Fareeha saw Angela approach. It was one of the perks of being on higher ground. The doctor's suit was caked in dried blood, the blood of her company.

Angela didn't need to come here. From what she heard in the Western European theater, Switzerland wasn't in one of the red zones. Germany, Austria, and Italy buffered the country from direct Omnic invasion. If things hadn't changed. Perhaps the doctor became too bored where she currently was. Or maybe she was here for another reason. Fareeha didn't really care. She wouldn't leave her country. Not after the many battles she'd brave already. Although, it was nice seeing a familiar face.

Fareeha laughed. She pointed towards the mouth of the cave. "Egypt is mostly sand. An endless sea of it. Don't know where you are, when you aren't careful, it consumes you. The desert is cruel yet cultivates hard people," she said. "The shoulder's fine. Thank you. I'll pass the praise to the others. You may not know it, but you're a sight for sore eyes for them. If you hadn't came, some would have been left behind. I've never had to leave anyone behind. Living that is."

She patted a spot next to her. "Sit? There won't be a break after we move again," she said. "We've held our position for near two weeks. No resupply. No reinforcements. I'm sure C-COM will be livid when we show up. Might be called cowards. But with no ammunition? We might as well throw our bodies against the Omnics. This is the price for not preparing."

Angela looked out the mouth of the cave and smiled knowingly. This wasn't the first time she'd seen Egypt, though it was the first she'd seen it in flames. The ancient sands were no doubt soaked with blood.

"I came here with your mother once. It was a recon mission. Just scoping out an area. There wasn't much danger at the time, which is why I wanted to come along. You see, I hadn't been to Egypt yet. I wanted to see this land's beauty. The ancient temples and pyramids... It's a shame what this war has done to it. I don't think the ESF could have prepared properly, regardless how much time you had."

Angela brought herself to sit down next to the younger woman, reaching over and placing a gentle hand on the shoulder of her armor.

"If C-COM calls you cowards after you have held out for so long, risked your lives for the safety and preservation of others... They are fools, Fareeha. No one here has a speck of cowardice in them. Switzerland didn't need me. And I know Reinhardt went back to Germany... Overwatch has become a ghost. A shell of what it was. Everyone split up, and we can barely call ourselves a functioning organization anymore. Jack and Gabriel both disappeared... Following in the footsteps of your mother, I suppose. I needed to be somewhere where my presence would matter."

The Swiss woman sighed, looking down at the ground. She too was exhausted. This small break was something she would relish in.

"I am glad to be here, Fareeha. I am shocked that I found you. Though I suppose you're easy to spot. Blue stands out against the warm tones of the sand and dirt." She tapped the metal of the other's armor with her fingernail, smiling.

Fareeha smiled broadly for the first time in a very long time. "Thanks. I feel the same way. I miss everyone in Overwatch. Reinhardt always made me laugh. 'A giant! A giant!' I think I said something along those lines. I wonder if I'm taller than him?" The bit about her mother was a tricky spot. Fareeha was at peace with the fact that mother disappeared without a trace, but it didn't make her less bitter about it. "Wherever any of them are, I hope they're helping end this ... this nightmare. My ... mother? I haven't paid her much mind anymore. I hope she's out there. I hope I never see her again."

Bathing in the silence, Fareeha lingered on the pressure she felt on her armor where Angela had rested her hand. Just like when they were younger. Those days where the conflict was still in its infancy.

She watched her officers checking in with the men. If anyone knew of better men, she would hear it. From the Massacre of Tanta to the recent defense of Cairo. No matter the potential obstacles, she would defend her company. They had earned her respect. It took little on her part to earn theirs. With her reputation within the ESF and all. It made it that more pressing to ensure she didn't lead them astray. She wasn't entirely impervious to the war. As stoic and resolute as she was, she was tired. More mistakes were being made on her part. Mistakes that got people killed. She couldn't tell anyone though. She couldn't. No weakness from the leader. That was one of her principles.

Angela spoke again. Fareeha rose an eyebrow. "Glad to be here? Not many would say that," she said. Hearing the tapping on her armor, she smirked. "Makes a statement doesn't it? Really poor in the tactical sense I suppose. But blue's been my favorite color. Same as my ... mom. Guess there're similarities after all."

Sighing, it was about time to go. "Do you need more time to rest? Healing's just as tiring as fighting it seems," she said. "Thank you for what you did. Helping the wounded. We don't have medicinal technology like that on the front. Only in the rear, which the front hardly sees anymore."

Angela shook her head and got to her feet, steady on the ground as she was in the air. She was tired, yes, but she would more properly rest when the time wasn't so dire. They needed to keep moving, and she wasn't going to slow them down.

"I can rest when we are safer. The wounded take my highest priority. The closer we get them to safety, the better their chances of recovery. Don't worry about me." She insisted. "Whenever you're ready, I'll be right behind you."

With that, she made a quick check over the wounded to make certain everyone was holding together. One soldier in particular was sitting against the wall, shivering and crying. He was a young man who'd suffered a leg wound. His left leg from the knee down had been blasted off.

Angela knelt down by the man. "Are you alright? What's the matter?" She asked. He hid his face from her, stammering something about not knowing if he could make the final stretch on crutches. His underarm was raw and starting to blister from the makeshift crutch that had been fashioned from wood and twine. Angela reached her hand forward and pressed it to the raw skin, focusing her healing on the area.

"You must gather your strength. Just one more trip and you'll be able to rest. Is your leg in pain?"

The young man leaned his head back against the wall, breathing shaky and resisting sobs. He was terrified, the poor thing. The atrocities they must have witnessed broke Angela's heart. She knew the cost of conflict like this.

"Let me take a look." She moved to check the half-limb, undoing the bandaging enough to check how it was healing. It didn't look well. It hadn't been amputated precisely, and the stitching that the others had done was a mess. Likely that they'd been rushed, with shaking hands and spiraling minds. She quickly rebandaged the wound. She didn't have time to sit and mend this.

"Come on, get up. You can do this." The blonde encouraged. "I will be here, if anything happens. I will protect these people with my life."

She stood up, and grasped the young man's hands, helping him up. Once he put the crutch under his arm, he looked her in the eyes.

"Why come here? Why assist the ESF? Our battles are all lost, our homeland is destroyed... Your talents are wasted on the doomed." He despaired.

Angela frowned. Just one of what were likely many that had lost all hope in this war. She placed a gloved hand on his shoulder.

"So long as no one gives up, Egypt will live. Cairo will live. The soul of a country lives not in its buildings, but its people. Remember that." She said before turning and walking away from him to check on others. She hoped that this ragtag group could survive the trek. Sure, she could do it. But she hadn't been through hell like they had. She hadn't had limbs sheared off by bullets, hadn't watched friends and family die.

Angela glanced to Fareeha. The Captain was putting up such a strong front. What suffering was she in? How was she holding up through all of this?

Fareeha nodded at Angela's response. "Spoken like a true jumper. Let's not waste daylight then."

Fighting against her leg's screaming protest of walking once more, she promised she'd berate her superiors in giving her company some rest. Even take in replacements. Just from the quick look about, the remnants of the 5th was half strength. Maybe even more so towards the low end of the company size brackets. It was good they pulled out when they did. She prayed her actions hadn't doomed any other companies still holding the line. A thought she didn't want to entertain.

"Everyone up; break's over! NCOs, equipment and personnel check. We're almost home. Officers, to me." The company roused from their temporary, welcomed stupor as platoon leaders made their way to her. When they were accounted for, she opened a tactical tablet pocketed away in her armor compartment. "Gentlemen."

They all nodded to her.

"1st and 3rd were hit hardest. As such, said platoons will comprise the core guard. The wounded will be centered there. You shall be the shepherds. Do not lose them. Clear, Ansaf? Alawa?"

"Understood," said Alawa.

"No one left behind. Got it," copied Ansaf.

"2nd, will be our buffer. Nero. Split your platoon into a forward and rear guard. The composition is to your discretion. Radio in any contact and engage at will."

"You got it, Cap," said Nero.

She looked at all of them. "We're almost home. Supplies. Some rest. Get everyone home. We've lost too much. Get me? Good. Get to it."

The officers departed without another word as Fareeha made her way to the mouth of the circle. After a period of shouting and shifting, the buffer team proceeded with the rest in tow. No one would get left behind. She felt the compartment next to her chest, a bulge from the dog tags.

No one.



They arrived at the safe zone almost two hours later.

Fareeha sat at a table in the officer's mess hall. She had stripped off her armor with only her g-suit to cover her. It felt wonderful. The ventilation. She forgot what it felt to not wear her armor. It was suggested that jumpers remove their exo-suits/armor daily, but she never had the chance. The fighting was non-stop. Everything was being resupplied for her company. Displaced jumpers filling the spots recently opened. She had two days before her company was to deploy again. Barbaric though the times necessitated it.

The other officers of her company sat with her, each also in their g-suits. No one talked. There was no energy for it. Fareeha had given full privileges for her company to R&R. Within reason of course.

"Did it again, Cap." Fareeha looked at Nero who smiled. He stirred the contents of real coffee in his mug. "Brought us home. You did it, by god."

Ansaf laughed. "Brown nosing ain't getting you anywhere. Not in the military, boy."

Nero feigned hurt. "Brown nosing? Me? Never. But charming? Different story altogether."

"That scar kills the looks."

Nero pointed at the burn scar on his face and smirked. "Ansaf? This scar makes the looks."

Fareeha sighed and shook her head. "Alawa, did you check the resupply? Up to snuff?"

Alawa, who'd been tucking away the rubber-like chicken nodded. "As much as I could get it. The whole ESF is low on ordinance. Managed to dig some deets. We're getting supplies from other countries. Factories are being erected on the southern borders or Egypt. Long story short? We're boned."

"Thanks Mr. Op-to-mis-tic." Nero downed his coffee. "Replacements look green, Cap. Greener than grass. We'll weed out on our next deployment."

"They are soldiers of Egypt. Regardless of the quality," Fareeha said with an edge to her tone. "We will treat them like our own." She looked at Nero than to the others. "Am I clear?"

The officers nodded.

Fareeha went back to her meal. "But Nero's right. We'll lose a lot, if your evaluation is correct."

"Meant no disrespect, Cap."

"I know, Nero. I know."

Two hours, the people of this company suffered through paranoia and exhaustion, fighting against their own bodies just to make it to safety. When they arrived, Angela introduced herself to the leadership that received them. They granted her permission to tag onto Fareeha's unit and go with them in two days when they were to be deployed again. They didn't seem pleased that they'd only received one doctor from Switzerland.

However, when she had the chance, she attempted to establish communication with the soldiers that had brought her to Egypt. She wasn't going to ridicule them. no, she was going to ask for them to request troops to aid these crippled forces. By the looks of the soldiers who were here, they were accepting just about anyone who was able-bodied and could aim with a rifle. Old, young, it didn't matter. They were desperate. They needed help.

Borrowing a long range two-way radio, she managed to get a hold of the Swiss Armed Forces. She spoke calmly and waited for the right person to come to the radio to talk with her. She got a hold of Florian, who desperately apologized for leaving her behind. He'd made it back to Switzerland, and was on base. When she told him she wanted him to request troops, he suggested she do it herself, and got up to route her to the Colonel who was in charge.

"Doctor Ziegler," A gruff sounding man spoke. "This is Colonel Haener. I command the 3rd Infantry Regiment. The Lieutenant you first spoke to said you needed to discuss sending troops to Cairo. I need you to understand that I can't just throw troops around at the will of a doctor."

Angela furrowed her brow in frustration. "Colonel, the fighting in Switzerland is nothing compared to what is here. This is not a conflict the Swiss can just stay out of. This is worldwide, and if one nation fails, the rest will only get weaker. You must understand that; you're a Colonel, after all. You mission as Swiss soldiers is peacekeeping, and those efforts must often be made outside of our homeland. I beg of you, find it in your heart to deploy troops and show selfless actions in a time where hope is scarce."

There was silence for a few moments before Haener replied. "You do have a point, but I cannot spare much... I can send two companies, but that is all that I can do. All others are remaining on guard and protecting our borders. The weight of any of their deaths will be on your shoulders for making this request, Doctor Ziegler. If you weren't part of Overwatch, I wouldn't have even bothered talking with you. I will contact the ESF and get the troops ready for deployment as soon as possible."

Angela breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps this would help with the dwindling morale of this country's military. "Thank you, Colonel."

With that, she decided she'd see about getting some food. She had two days to rest and prepare to be deployed alongside Fareeha's unit. She made her way towards the mess hall, and as she walked, many turned their heads to watch her. To them, she seemed out of place. Her pale skin and blue eyes, hands clean and body lithe; it was so strange to them. She wasn't tall like the jumpers, whose spines were decompressed from the weight of gravity pulling down on their soaring bodies. She wasn't muscular like the grunts, she was quite the opposite, really. It was intimidating to know so many eyes peered at her as she walked by. She wondered where Fareeha was, and hoped that she was resting. Angela imagined that it would bring much relief to Fareeha know that the Swiss were sending two whole companies to assist in the fighting. Her arrival to Cairo wouldn't be a disappointment after all.

Fareeha tuned out the banter amongst her officers. Friendly banter and camaraderie was something she fostered. Something she condoned. The traditionalists had a problem with how she interacted with her company, but that was their deal. 5th operated as good as ever, and that's all that mattered to her.

"Doctor's here," Alawa said, pointing with his fork. "Drawing the whole crowd. I bet most here haven't seen a Swiss woman. Why--"

Fareeha was on her feet. Towering above the majority of the men there, a hallmark of the Jumper Corps in general, she crossed over to where Angela was standing. Alone amongst soldiers that weren't of her own country. The sacrifice was apparent. She waved at the doctor. "Sorry. I would've found you sooner. Reporting in then needed to ... sit."

Leading Angela towards the line, she grabbed a few more items herself and walked back towards the table with doctor. "Make room," she said as the three jumpers shifted and made a space available for Angela. Fareeha took her seat and began tucking into her third plate. "Don't worry. I keep the boys in line. The others won't bother you."

"Except me," said Nero. He dodged a playful swipe from Ansaf.

Fareeha rolled her eyes. "Except him. There's no helping Nero. But please," Fareeha said as she gestured at the spot across from her. "I was just going through the replacements list with First Lieutenant Alawa here," she gestured to him, "and noticed your name on the list. Are you sure you want in? You're in danger out there. Maybe no supplies. Maybe no luck in pulling out as nicely as we did from Cairo. You could do much more here with the civilians. Hell, even the battalion."

Just as the eyes boring into her back began to bother her, Angela was both relieved and pleasantly surprised to be approached by Fareeha, and followed her to where the officers were eating. She supposed she would get to see the reaction from the others when they heard about the reinforcement companies coming from Switzerland. She took a bite of her food first, smiling at the banter between Nero and Ansaf. She looked to Fareeha as she attempted to persuade her to stay behind.

"I have made my decision, Fareeha. I am not scared of the battlefield. And it is where I can do the most good with what I have. And besides, I won't be completely estranged from my people. In fact, I'll be responsible for some."

She paused to see the confused looks on the other's faces. "I made contact with the Swiss Armed Forces. They hold high respect for me, being one of the elite of Overwatch and a top doctor of my country. I appealed to the Colonel's sense of duty and peacekeeeping. Two companies of infantry are being sent to aid the ESF. It's as much as he could spare. He originally wasn't going to give anything, but I can be convincing."

Fareeha rose an eyebrow. "Responsible for some?"

What Angela said next made Fareeha's lips tug into upside down frown. The others were taken aback though they quickly recovered. Even though Angela only got two companies of Swiss forces to deploy here, that would alleviate some of the pressure off the ESF. Though a division - even a battalion - would've been better, she'd take what she could get. Maybe the world may once again unite. Fareeha hoped that'd happen one day.

"Are you leading them?" Fareeha asked.

Angela shook her head, laughing at the prospect of her leading like Fareeha did. She wasn't that type of leader, if one at all. She could instruct other medics and give people hope, but she was not nearly as brave as to bear the burden of possibly sending soldiers to their deaths.

"Oh no, no, no. I am not soldier, I cannot lead soldiers into a fight. I assume that the Colonel will either send a Commander with them, or put them under the ESF's jurisdiction. My only responsibility is to keep them healthy, as it is with your soldiers."

Angela looked around the table at the expressions of the other officers. The relief was practically palpable. Sure, they would have wanted more, but this was a great boost in morale. Angela was happy that she helped their pysche.